


Waiting

by Brandnewandancient



Series: Dredd [2]
Category: Dredd (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 09:49:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brandnewandancient/pseuds/Brandnewandancient
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra Anderson was waiting. Waiting for a meat wagon to pick up her erstwhile perps, waiting for her trainer to return to evaluate her handling of the situation, waiting for the end of shift to fall face first into her pillow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting

Cassandra Anderson was waiting. Waiting for a meat wagon to pick up her erstwhile perps, waiting for her trainer to return to evaluate her handling of the situation, waiting for the end of shift to fall face first into her pillow. It had been an exhausting day, first responding to a double homicide that had quickly escalated into a shoot out with a gang, followed by a high speed chase that had ended with the driver having a very timely heart attack before he could take out anyone else. It was ending with an attempted robbery turned hostage situation, with two civilians and both perps dead.  
  
She looked down at the tiny face staring back up at her and her heart constricted. It was never easy when it was kids, but she'd been too late to save this one. She scrubbed at the dampness on her cheek and glanced around nervously in case she was seen.  
  
"Anderson," her partner sauntered up behind her, his eyes accurately reading what had happened behind the glass of his helmet. She swallowed back the guilt making her throat feel thick, her heart heavy. His gravelly voice helped to redirect her, to give her the reminder she needed that justice had been served for these victims, "Perps?"  
  
"Executed," she said softly, felt the heavy weight of his hand on her shoulder; a hesitant squeeze of his fingers she knew did not come easily for him. She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed a sigh of relief. Dredd was here and everything would be okay.

 

His signature frown deepened, "Hmmm. Let's head back to Central, your shift ended two hours ago."  
  
She blinked as she realized he was correct, following behind him towards the…smoking remains of her bike. She looked up at him sheepishly and shrugged, opening her mouth to start her explanation of grenade launchers and poor timing, but he just gave one short shake of his head before mounting his own bike and waiting for her to climb on behind him.  
  
She slipped her helmet over her head and slid her arms around his waist, the fronts of her thighs pressed firmly against the backs of his. "Hold on tight, Rookie," she heard through the communicator in her helmet, his tone a husky purr meant for her ears only despite the fact that Central could be listening in, sending a shiver down her spine as her grip tightened around him.  
  
"What happened to the bike?" he asked, she could hear the disapproval in his tone, his body shifting as they weaved in and out of traffic.  
  
She gave a nervous chuckle, "Well-aimed grenade," she muttered, blinking as she imagined grit in her eyes from the blast. "I just -" her words were cut off with a hiss of pain as searing heat peppered her back, her armor plating saving her life for the second time that day. She held on tightly as he swung the bike around, distantly she heard Dredd calling in the judges under fire to Central. She bit back a scream of terror when another shot blew out the back tire and Dredd lost control and they were ejected from their seats, sent skidding across the pavement.  
  
Her chest heaved as she took stock of her injuries, scrapes and bruises and a broken trigger finger already swelling at an alarming rate. She groaned and pushed to her knees, pulling her weapon with her off hand, swinging her head to search for her partner. She located him, still lying limp on the road 20 feet away. "Shit," she hissed as she limped towards him, her left knee protesting under her weight. "Dredd," she gasped, stumbling as she made her way towards him. She surveyed the area, swore when she saw the hostiles closing in on them. "Go back to your homes, I am authorized to use deadly force," she commanded, raising her weapon to her shoulder and peering down the sight.  
  
Some civilians stopped in their tracks but others simply laughed and continued their advance. Most didn't have weapons of their own, but she couldn't risk firing until she had Dredd secured and under cover.  
  
She sank down next to him and touched her fingers to the reassuring pulse hammering in his throat. She shook his shoulder, wincing as pain shot through her hand. He groaned, a promising sign, and she turned back to the advancing crowd, "Gas grenades," she murmured, lobbing one at the crowd. She wasted no time, a silent scream sticking in her throat as she grasped him by the collar and tugged, searing pain nearly blinding her as bone ground against bone.  
  
She refused to let go or give up and pulled him behind a jersey wall and slumped down beside him with his head resting in her lap, re-evaluating her broken finger to a broken hand. She glanced over the wall and sighed when she saw the crowd had mostly dispersed except for a few still coughing from the nerve toxin. She heard the shrill wail of sirens in the distance and knew help was on the way. She pulled her helmet off and took a deep breath, trying to still her shaking hands as adrenaline wore off.  
  
She turned her attention to her partner, pulling his helmet off to find his deep brown eyes blinking slowly as he started to come around. His brows pulled together in confusion and he groaned softly as he lifted a hand to his head.  
  
"You must have cracked that head of yours pretty hard," she said softly, stroking her uninjured fingers through his short brown hair.  
  
"What...?" his pupils were fixed and dilated, a sure sign of a concussion.  
  
"Protesters. I handled them. Back up is on the way." She pushed him back down when he struggled to sit up, earning a scowl and a grunt of pain from him. "You need to wait until a medic arrives," she admonished, resting her own aching head against the hard concrete. She frowned as he continued to struggle until he was sitting slumped against her, shoulder to shoulder.  
  
"Never an easy day, is it?" she asked, pulling his helmet into her lap and tracing her fingers along the cracked edge where his head had struck the ground. The protective gear had absorbed the worst of the impact, without it, she figured he'd be dead, a thought she refused to vocalize.  
  
"You hit, Rookie?" his tongue felt thick and heavy, his head seemed to have a mind of its own as his vision swam in front of him. His stomach threatened to rebel but he forced the feeling down until he was certain she was okay. He was unused to working with a partner, but the Chief Justice had determined that the rookie was a good match for him and he'd been tasked with keeping her alive on the rough streets of sector 13.  
  
"I think I broke something in my hand, and I'm sure my armor is a mess, but I'm okay," she reassured him. He grunted in response, a typical reaction that put her more at ease. She glanced up as another Judge approached them, a frown marring his lips.  
  
"Report."  
  
"The remnants of a group of protesters are over there. They wrecked our bike and I subdued them with a gas grenade while seeing to my partner's safety." Anderson replied, slowly pushing to her feet to stand unsteadily in front of the senior judge.  
  
"At ease, Rookie, medics are right behind me. Dredd, you look like shit," the older judge stated, the corner of his lips twitching in an amused grin.  
  
Dredd just stared at him blankly until the other man cleared his throat and walked away to cuff the perps. Anderson looked at him with a raised eyebrow, a question lingering on her tongue she hardly dared to asked.  
  
"Walker. He was in the academy with me. _Sycophant_ ," he nearly sneered, glaring at her when she chuckled.  
  
"C'mon, medic are here," she held out her good hand and helped him to his feet, shoring up his weight with an arm around his waist. They made a strange picture, bloody and bruised from head to toe, shuffling unsteadily towards the medi-van that had pulled up.  
  
Her coat was whisked away and a cold gel was applied to the burns on her back where her armor had stopped the bullets and her cuts and scrapes her cleaned up and a cold pack was wrapped around her tweaked knee. Her hand was scanned and splinted and she was placed on medical leave before she could argue.  
  
Dredd was proving to be a more difficult patient, jerking away from the medic as he tried to examine him and clean up his wounds. He growled when the suggestion of a medical leave was made until his concussion was resolved, but a slight shake of her head and a gentle touch of his knee had him subsiding with a grumble. "You can dispute it later," she murmured to him, a smile playing across her lips.  
  
"You need to stay overnight in the hospital wing for observation. You got pretty rattled up," the medic told him, entering notes into his datapad as they rode in the medi-van as it headed back to the Hall of Justice. "Just for observation. Can't be too careful with head injuries. Lucky you didn't fracture your skull, but you're too stubborn for that, eh, Dredd?"  
  
"Hmmm..." was his growled response, a stoney stare boring into the other man's face. "I'm not staying in the hospital."  
  
"Ah..."  
  
Anderson sighed, "Can you release him if I stay with him? He will make everyone miserable if you make him go in." She glanced at Dredd and saw the almost imperceptible softening of his expression, his eyebrows drawing together and lifting in surprise at her suggestion before his face was shuttered once more. "I can handle him for one night, I suppose."  
  
Reluctantly, the medic agreed and soon the short trip back to the Hall of Justice was over. She was given a list of instructions and with one last promise to be vigilant, they were in the elevator and he had selected the number for his floor. They staggered out, both still unsteady on their feet, and he glanced around confusedly for a moment before setting off in the direction of his room. He slapped a hand against the palm scanner and pushed the door open when he heard the quiet snick of the lock.  
  
He stood slightly aside and waited for her to wander past. She couldn't help but to smile a little as she glanced around, the space was entirely him, utilitarian and sparse, everything precisely aligned, all hard angles and sharp edges. Perfectly _Dredd._ She heard the door close quietly behind her and she turned, searching his face for a sign. "You should probably rest," she ventured, seeing the habitual frown deepen at her suggestion.  
  
"I could go find us some food if you're hungry," she offered, staring at him as he shuffled past her, reminding her of an old man, reminding her that he was several years her senior and wouldn't bounce back from his injuries as easily as she.  
  
He padded into the small galley kitchen with her hard on his heels and he wondered, not for the first time, if she had voluntarily ventured into his thoughts before, knowing his secrets as no one else did. He shook his head, groaning from the shock of pain that shot through his brain. She was his partner and he trusted her as he hasn't trusted in a long while. He knew in moments of weakness his anger bled through to her when they were working together, but she had told him it was difficult to hear his thoughts unless she tried. But she didn't try. There were days he _wanted_ her to try, to know the thoughts he struggled to make sense of on his own.  
  
He stopped in his tracks and swung around to face her, catching her against his chest when she didn't stop moving in time. "Read me," he demanded gruffly, his dark eyes glittering in the dim light as she searched his face for an explanation.  
  
"No." She frowned, shaking her head as she stared at him, her brows furrowed as she considered his request. "You don't want me too," a statement of truth, acknowledging his right to privacy from that type of invasion.  
  
"Please." A husky purr that sounded more command than request, surprising even him though his face didn't betray him.  
  
He watched her frown deepen before her eyes fluttered closed, felt her hesitant presence at the edge of his conscience. He could push her out if he wanted, he realized, but he forced his mind to relax, to let her in.  
  
"I sense anger and a strong sense of right." He heard her murmur, her voice sounded far away and sad. "Conflict," she recoiled slightly as though she'd been slapped, "Fear, but not for yourself."  
  
And suddenly the memory assaulted him, Peach Trees and the Ma-Ma clan, _we have nowhere to go_ , knowing the rookie he'd been saddled with might not make it out alive, the look she'd given him when he said it. The desperation in her eyes when Kay got the upper hand on her and forced her into the elevator.  
  
Her hiss of pain on the bike that afternoon, knowing she'd been shot and not being able to protect her as they wrecked.  
  
"Confusion," his twisty mess of emotions, things he barely understood beyond the iron control, the sense of justice, _I am the law_. Things leaking out around that, watching her lips curve into a smile, her husky bark of laughter before her mouth pressed together in a thin line to silence herself, her soft blonde curls damp with sweat from a hard days work.  
  
"Dredd." A sigh, as soft as their first time had been hard. Unassuming, a question lingering in the quiet that left his mind a tangle of contradictions: want, need, desire, lust, all things he'd never struggled with before the rookie with the failing grade crossed his path.  
  
He blinked to find her looking up at him with parted lips, the fingers of her good hand trailing along the waist of his pants, a question in her eyes he didn't have to be a psychic to understand. Laughter bubbled between her lips to let him know she still walked in his mind.  
  
"Who's psychic now?" she chuckled, a raspy sound that shivered along his spine. " _I don't need to walk in your thoughts to know you,"_ her voice whispered through his head, soft and sensual. Her fingers trailed up his stomach, tracing the hard ridges of muscle as she went. His skin burned beneath her touch and he ached to taste her, to feel her mouth slanted hard under his own. He took a step forward, his hands still gripping her shoulders, forcing her to retreat, stopping only when the back of her hips were pressed tightly against the countertop.  
  
"What are our options, Rookie?" An old game, designed to make cadets size up a situation and make the logical choice. Sometimes you had to throw logic, and perps, out the window.  
  
"Hmmmm…" her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. "Defend our position and wait until backup arrives or go on the offensive and forget about the rules." She felt his hands drifting down her arms, passing over to her waist and up to skim over her breasts.  
  
"Best strategy?" His head dipped down, his breath hot and moist against her lips, hovering just inches above.  
  
Her fingers wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer until her mouth crushed against his, felt his hand at her back, fingers splayed along her spine applying firm pressure. He went on the offensive, his tongue filling her mouth, stroking and thrusting against hers until a groan issued from her throat. The stubble along his jaw scraped against her soft skin, eliciting a shiver from her before she pulled back to suck in a greedy breath. "Trust your senses," she advised, still playing the game. "Just remember, you are concussed," she breathed, moaning as his mouth slid along her jaw, tasting the salt lingering on her skin, and down to fasten over the pulse breathing in her throat.  
  
"Hmmm," he growled, his hands sliding under her tank, calloused leather on silk, his head pounding as his blood roared through his veins. He flipped open her belt, pushed her pants down her legs and briefly appreciated the sculpted line of her hips and her well toned thighs. His fingers combed through the curls between her legs, finding her folds already slick with need. Her hips bucked forward into his touch and her lips sought his, claiming his mouth with an urgency he could appreciate.

 

It was a need he’d never experienced until now, that celebration of life that only another Judge could understand, facing certain death day after day after day, never knowing if that morning would be the last time he’d ever suit up. That knowledge had never bothered him before, he’d had nothing to live for, only justice, the law. Now things had shifted slightly, he had a partner assigned to him that kept him on his toes, that sought him out and _wanted_ to be with him, to learn from him. A partner he knew might never make it past her first year but he had given her the passing grade and it was a matter of pride to see her succeed.

 

“Dredd,” she gasped against his mouth, her back arching and her breasts rubbing against his chest. One leg hitched up to wrap around his waist, to grant him easier access to her wet center, his fingers stroking and fondling her sensitive nub, driving her closer to the peak.  She groaned and shuddered, her fingers tightly gripping the back of his neck as her legs went weak. “Oh,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering closed as the tightly coiled spring inside her snapped and she went spiraling over the edge of her release.

 

Her head fell back as she panted to catch her breath, not failing to notice as he pushed her tank up, pulling it over her head and tossing it aside, her bra following soon after as he deftly dealt with the row of hooks in the back. She felt his strong hand wrap around her waist and he boosted her up on the edge of the counter, positioning himself between her thighs.

They both moaned as he pushed into her molten core, filling her, felt her stretching around him until he was buried to the hilt. Her mouth was on his throat, her tongue stroking and sucking the pulse that beat there with every thrust of his hips, their panting grew erratic as waves of pleasure built up within them and his rhythm increased. With a soft cry and a harsh grunt, he emptied into her, riding out their climax together under he slumped against her, skin damp with sweat and aches he’d refused to acknowledge until then making themselves known. 

She chuckled softly, a smile curving her lips as her hand stroked up and down his spine, “We really shouldn’t…” 

“Make a habit of this,” he finished, reluctantly pulling away from her, his frown settling across his features once more. He took a step away with a soft groan, wanting nothing more than to stand beneath the hot spray of his showerhead to ease away the pain before collapsing into his bed. With her at his side. “Let’s go, Rookie,” he rasped over his shoulder, heard her toeing off her boots behind him and then the soft slap of her bare feet on the cold floor. Her laughter trailing in his wake as she quickly caught up to him and realized their destination.

Nothing more he could do now but wait to see where this road would lead.

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably not my best work, but I've had some writer's block that I've been trying to work through and this seemed to help get me started again. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!


End file.
